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  Oct 2017 Kristina Morgan
Rebel Heart
"Don't do drugs"
Everyone always says
They're addictive
Cruel in every way.
I pledged to be drug-free
Since my pig-tail days.
But then you crashed into my life
And blew everything away.

My worst addiction
Was the sweetness of your lips
My favorite destruction
Written in your fingertips
My worst obsession
The deep color of your eyes
My favorite drug
In your sweet little lies.
Poem from some years ago I feel too deeply right now. Happy writing ~ BM

(Front Page 10/7/17)
  Sep 2017 Kristina Morgan
Bored in class
Smoked half my pack
I keep getting up for a snack
The days hot
I got a cold , nose full of snot
All I wanna do is bike
Nah man **** a hike
Give me a joint
Then I'll tell u my point
Wait for the drop.........
And go.

Just stop fighting it so hard,
the underwater after dark river
you love so much.

A part of you knew that
this is where you'd be carried
if even half-heartedly
those years ago
when you tempted fate first.

You're afraid to admit
afraid to accept
how much you love it
when you can let go.

How long have you been hunting
for an answer?
How long have you been hunted by
the answer you really want?

You must know by now
you'll never break the walls
of one you name equal;
you can't even break your own.

There is no way to walk the
road you chose without
becoming someone else;
you cannot traverse the abyss
between yourself and others
and yet remain inviolate;
you can't see without being seen.

You cannot touch,
without being touched.
You cannot love,
without being broken.

So then you can't go back
but you're afraid to go forward
staying in between is worse
since stagnation means death
what do you do?

You already know.
  Aug 2017 Kristina Morgan
Akira Chinen
She was the girl
with a broken heart
full of stitches that sputtered
and spat and beat on
despite the pain of being
and her smile
still had the charm and beauty
that could make anyone
belive in love
and she was the kind of person
he wanted to waste his time with
but he had run out of time to waste
and he couldn't remember
if he had meet her in a dream
or a conversation he had
while lost in his imagination
and it was all just the same
because he knew
he wasn't made to be real
anywhere outside
the world of crumpled paper
and lost pages
stained with blood
and ink sputtering
from his heart
that despite being dead
could still find a reason
to beat when lost
under the beauty
of the charm
of her smile
and it could have been love
in the imagination
of his dreams
or it could have been real
in the dreams
of his imagination
but it wasn't the time
or the place
so he slowly faded away
while imagining
what a dream it would be
to fall for the girl
with her broken heart
and they could
sputter and waste and love
and get lost in conversation
of dreams and imagination
  Aug 2017 Kristina Morgan
tell me
talk to me
don't be afraid to
tell me what's wrong
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